So I celebrated my 38th birthday this weekend (you can read one of my birthday presents from one of my friends), and I often muse on the thought: Is this birthday my mid-life? No, not that I’m in a crisis or anything (no hair plugs and hot car for this guy), and it isn’t that I wonder if I am finally in my prime… the top of my form… never better.

I guess it is more just a morbid curiosity.

Just for the record, I am completely at ease with my death. Granted, a lot of my peace comes from increasing my life insurance policy for my wife and kids and getting my inheritance trust fund in place. But another part of me looks at my life with a certain amount of satisfaction. Yeah, while it is human nature to always be dissatisfied (the proverbial “weeds are greener on the other side of the fence”), but I not only like my life, I feel quite grateful for it.

Nothing to brag about, I suppose, but I like it.

Of course, there are regrets, but that is passed with no corrections— at least not in this universe. But if the past has placed you in a position where you are happy and living fully at this point in time, then it was a good past.

Excuse me while I make a wish and blow out the candles on my cake… a wish that next year will be as wonderful as this past one…. thick with good friends and family, free with laughter, music and poetry, good with thoughts and rich with smiles.